


Accidit Quinquies

by frankie_mcstein



Category: Magnum P.I. (TV 2018)
Genre: CW- assault, Fire, Gen, Hero!Katsumoto, LONG CHAPTERS ARE LONG, Latin as titles to seem smart, Poor Higgy, Protective boys, Rick is a protective marshmallow, So much trouble, Stalking, The Author Regrets Nothing, Traffic Accidents, five times fic, heroics, unspecified mental/emotional issues, various injuries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2020-11-01 23:54:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20551019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frankie_mcstein/pseuds/frankie_mcstein
Summary: Five times Higgins was in desperate trouble and her boys came charging to the rescue. (And one time she totally kicked butt and saved them)Chapter One- Traffic accidentChapter Two- Trapped in a fireChapter Three- Targeted by a stalker(Tags and warnings will be added as the chapter count increases)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this started with a simple idea spawned by Higgy looking so comfortable on the 'bike in Day of the Viper. Then it became this giant of a fic. I was aiming for around 5k for the whole thing. Now I have chapters that needs chapters of their own!
> 
> I'll add warnings as needed, but if anyone sees anything that should be tagged or warned please please let me know!
> 
> Warning for chapter 1- traffic collision

She twisted the throttle a little farther; she didn’t think of herself as a thrill seeker, despite her past, but she did love her motorbike. The back roads that she had been driving on for the last ten minutes or so were perfect. They were almost always empty, especially at this time of night, and just winding enough to make keeping control of the bike a challenge. She slowed down as she came to a blind corner, practically a hairpin turn.

The driver of the car didn’t manage to react in time.

She tried to swerve, but the car was nearly on top of her by the time she saw it. The road was narrow, and the light rain that had been falling since that morning had made it slick. She had just enough time to feel a shock of fear run through her before the car slammed into her front tire. The brief moment of weightlessness made her stomach churn, and she wished she was back on solid ground again. And then she landed hard, heard glass splintering, and a blinding pain took her breath away. It kept growing, getting unimaginably worse until she finally passed out.

The car's tires were screeching on the damp asphalt as it finally came to a stop. The driver’s face was sickly pale and he stared at the limp figure sprawled on the road in front of him. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there; he thought it must have been about an hour, every second praying the person he had hit would get up. In fact it was only about two minutes before a jolt of adrenaline had him fumbling with the seatbelt and clambering out of the car.

Joshua Simmon was not a bad man. He was a fair boss and doting father. He donated to charity. His first instinct as he hurried over to the bike rider was to get his phone out and dial 911, but he froze part way between his car and the wrecked bike, phone half out of his pocket. He already had points on his license, and something like this would mean, at the very least, he would never drive again. If he lost his license, it would sink his business. At the worst, this would mean jail time, and a criminal record would absolutely be the end of him. He’d seen his brother-in-law struggle for years after serving a few months for possession of cannabis. He went from making six figures to working two jobs just to make ends meet. How hard would it be with someone’s death on his record? 

Everything flashed through Joshua’s head in a second, all the maybes and possibles. Maybe the person hadn’t seen his face or license plate? Maybe they would wake up with amnesia? Was that even a possibility, or was that something they made up for the movies? Was it possible that the rider was still alive? Was there any chance that his wife would stand by him if he had killed someone? Even without the troubles they were already trying to work through, that seemed like a remote possibility.

Joshua let his phone drop back into his pocket and walked the last few steps over to the body of the bike rider. This close, he could see it was a woman and felt his stomach twist as his wife’s face swam before his eyes. He knelt and stretched out a shaking hand, pressing two fingers lightly against the woman’s neck. Nothing. No pulse. He wasn’t sure if he was horrified or relieved, but he was soon telling himself it was for the best.

He knew a guy, James, who worked night security in a junkyard and owed him a favor; he could get his windshield replaced for a few bucks. Maybe a few extra for James to make sure he didn’t tell anyone. He could explain away the dent on the hood as an unfortunate encounter with a stray dog or something. A wild animal in the road maybe? Maybe just kids playing ball. All he needed to do was get to James without being pulled over for driving with a damaged windshield.

Well, almost all. There was just one more thing, and his skin crawled to think of it. But it had to be done for the sake of everything he held dear.

“After all,” he said, surprising himself by speaking steadily while staring at the young woman he had killed, “it’s not like you care. You don’t care about anything anymore.” And then he sobbed, an ugly gasping sound that tore out of him and pulled against muscles he hadn’t even realized were aching.

“I’m sorry,” he choked, tears streaming down his face as his entire body shook. “I’m so sorry, but I’ll lose everything if I don’t.” He patted the woman’s shoulder as if trying to offer her some sort of comfort and then slid his hand along the outflung arm to the slender wrist. Two deep breaths and he wrapped his fingers tightly around her wrist, cringing at the thought that he was touching a dead body, trembling at the thought that he was a murderer. It took a few more deep breaths before he was able to make himself move again, to reach out for the other arm and grasp the other wrist.

“It’s really lovely out here,” he offered as he started dragging the body toward the lush, dense forest that lined the sides of the road. “Peaceful.” He was still crying, struggling to speak. “You can rest here,” he managed before his voice cracked.

It took him nearly ten minutes to move the woman’s body to a distance he felt was far enough back from the road. He went back for the bike and used the flashlight on his phone to scour the area, looking for pieces of glass from the shattered headlight. He’d seen enough crime documentaries and police procedurals to know it was the smallest details that people often overlooked.

Then he dragged the wrecked bike to the same small, natural clearing where he had left the body. It took even longer to haul the wrecked machine through the forest and he was sweating and panting by the time the body came into view. Joshua stood in silence for a few minutes, feeling guilty and helpless, like nothing would ever be right again. He knelt by the body one last time and tugged at the crash helmet, seized by a sudden compulsion. His fingers fumbled with the chin strap until he finally managed to remove it and look down at the face of the woman whose life he had ended.

“You’re so young,” he whispered. “I’m so very sorry.” And he stood and walked away, a weight on his chest that he was pretty sure would never go away. He didn’t see the woman wince slightly at the all-consuming pain she was feeling. He didn’t see her mouth open as she tried to call for help. He didn’t see her shift as she tried to sit up and the pain flashed into every nerve ending, sending her crashing back down into unconsciousness. Joshua walked away without looking back.

A short while later the sound of an engine could just be heard in the clearing. Then it died away as Joshua headed to the junkyard, and all that could be heard was the wildlife and the sound of the rain pattering against the leaves.

\---

Magnum sighed as he woke, luxuriating in the feel of the sun on his skin. A deep breath and a long stretch, and he finally opened his eyes, only to yelp and scramble up the bed. Zeus and Apollo were standing on his bed, staring down at him, and he wondered if it were possible for them to have bitten him without waking him up. Their teeth were certainly sharp enough.

As the seconds ticked by and neither of the dogs barked, he risked slowly extending a hand, expecting a growl to greet the movement. Instead the dogs both started to whimper, and his brow furrowed as he tried to figure out exactly what was going on.

“Okay ‘lads,'” he said quietly, easing himself off the bed as slowly as he could, watching the now silent Dobermans as they watched his every move. “Let’s just see if we can’t get Higgy in here before you start trying to eat me for breakfast.” He kept his eyes fixed on the dogs, unsure if maintaining eye contact was the right thing to do but unwilling to look away. If death was coming for him on four legs, he was going to see it coming. One hand brushed the top of the bedside table and bumped his phone, and he held the home button, thanking whoever came up with fingerprint phone access for quite possibly saving him from being mauled in his own bedroom.

“Call Higgins,” he instructed as his phone beeped to tell him it was awaiting a voice command. The whining commenced again at the sound of Higgins’ name, and Magnum cocked his head in confusion. The robot lady on the other end of the phone was telling him that the number he was dialling couldn’t be reached and he was starting to have a really bad feeling. 

He grabbed the shirt he had thrown over the back of the chair the previous night, moving faster now, and looked away from the dogs to pull his shoes on. “Come on then,” he called as he headed for the door, hearing the padding sounds of soft paws following after him. “First things first, we’re going to check all through the house to make sure she hasn’t just shut you guys out of her room.”

Magnum did just that, checking every room in the main house, shadowed the entire time by the two worryingly docile dogs. He even risked his life by walking into Higgins' bedroom after not getting an answer when he knocked, determined not to start letting his bad feeling run away with him. He ended his search in the garage and immediately noticed the empty space where Higgins’ motorbike should have been.

“I’m sure I heard her leaving on that thing last night,” he mused out loud, seeing the dogs tip their heads as if considering his words. “Didn’t she come home last night?” He hurried to Higgins’ office and woke up her computer with an impatient jiggle, quickly loading the security feeds. One thing she hadn’t been able to fight him on was his need as security consultant to have access to the cameras, and he was grateful for that now as he rewound the footage and watched her ride out through the gate.

“Okay, she left at ten-fifteen. Let’s see…” He didn’t bother fast-forwarding the footage, instead checked the gate log. If Higgins had returned, she hadn’t done so through the main gate. The dogs were whimpering again, and one of them, he wasn’t sure which, actually put a paw on his leg. “All right, guys,” he said, trying to make his voice sound reassuring without making himself sound like a helpless creature ready to be snacked upon, “let’s call in some reinforcements.”

It may have been mid-morning on a Saturday but, once Magnum explained to Rick and T.C. that he wasn’t calling to ask for a case-related favor, both his friends were willing to hear him out. When he told them he was worried about Higgins, they both headed over to Robin’s Nest. T.C. arrived about twenty minutes after Magnum’s call and Rick about five minutes later.

“So she went out on her bike last night and never came back? You’re sure?” T.C. was asking as Rick walked in.

“I’m sure. I checked the security feeds and the entire estate. There’s no sign of her or her bike. And her cell is going straight to voicemail. I’m telling you guys, something is wrong. Even the dogs are worried.” He gestured to his couch where Zeus and Apollo were both slumped down on the cushions, the very picture of misery.

“Okay.” T.C. grabbed his cell. “So I guess we start with hospitals and go from there?” 

Rick pulled his cell out, too. "I know some people I can call," he said, scrolling through his contacts list. "Maybe I can track her bike down? It might have ended up in a chop shop."

Magnum and T.C. split the hospital listings they found on Google between them. It took longer than any of them would have liked to make their way through their various call lists, and none of them had any luck.

“So, Private Investigator,” said Rick, “what now?”

Magnum sighed. “Now I ask Katsumoto if any fatalities were reported last night.” He looked troubled, and Rick and T.C. exchanged a look.

“Thomas, you don’t really think…”

Magnum cut Rick off. “I don’t know what to think yet. But she didn’t come home and she’s not in hospital. The morgue is the next logical step.” He dialed and, catching sight of the concern on his friend’s faces, put the call on speaker.

“Not a good time, Magnum,” Katsumoto said, bypassing a greeting.

“Just two seconds, please. Were any traffic collisions reported last night? Maybe involving a Jane Doe?” It was a stretch; Magnum knew Higgins would never take out a vehicle without her license. He was pretty sure she didn’t leave her bedroom without photo I.D. of some kind, but the professional in him made him ask.

There was a pause as Katsumoto covered his phone’s mic, and, when he came back, the background noise had dropped considerably. “A Jane Doe?” he asked. “What’s going on, Magnum?”

“We think Higgins is in trouble. We already tried hospitals and some of Rick’s contacts and got nowhere. We can’t find her.”

“Nothing came across my desk,” came the reply. “Keep your phone on. I’ll ask around.” He hung up before any of the trio could thank him, leaving them staring at the silent cell.

“So, do we just sit here and wait for him to call back?” T.C. didn’t sound happy at the thought and Rick and Magnum didn’t look thrilled either.

“Hell no!” Rick exclaimed, grabbing his keys. “We’ll go drive around aimlessly and hope we stumble on something useful, right?” He smirked and the other two chuckled.

“All jokes aside though,” said Magnum, “I don’t think that’s a bad idea. I know she likes to take the back roads around the estate. If we split up and drive along them, then one of us actually might find something.”

They took a few minutes to plan out three routes and throw water, granola bars, and first aid kits into their cars, wanting to be prepared if they did manage to find Higgins. After making him swear to call them the second he heard from Katsumoto, Rick and T.C. left Magnum staring at the dogs sitting in the back seat of the Ferrari.

“No way, guys, not happening.”

The dogs ignored him.

“Uhh…” He tried snapping his fingers, having seen it work so often for Higgins. “Come along, lads,” he called, trying to mimic her accent.

The only response was a yawn and he wondered if that was the equivalent of an eye roll in dog terms.

“All right then,” he conceded, climbing into the driver’s seat. “Just remember, if you kill me while I’m driving, I will crash this car and take you both out with me.” He didn’t exactly relax as the dogs utterly failed to attack him while he started the engine, but he did manage to let his shoulders drop just a little. When that didn’t prompt growling or barking, he shook his head. “Okay lads,” he said, not even realizing he was using Higgins’ form of address once again. “Looks like we have ourselves a temporary truce.”

\---

Magnum wasn’t sure how Rick or T.C. were conducting their searches, but he’d decided to take advantage of Zeus and Apollo and the lack of other cars on the quiet roads. He kept a close eye on the odometer and stopped every time it told him he had traveled a mile. He would scout around looking for clues while the dogs would sniff around for scents. It was slow going, but he didn’t want to miss something small that could tell him what had happened to Higgins.

The dogs started whining and barking at the same moment he spotted what he thought were skid marks on the road. He snapped a picture before hurrying over to the mark the dogs were pawing at. The rain that past night hadn’t been heavy enough to wash it away, and he found himself looking at a smear of blood.

“If Higgins was in an accident here, then where is she now?” A bark had him scrambling a few steps back, just in case the dogs had decided they were close enough to their mistress and didn’t need him any longer. They were both straining as if held back by an invisible lead and understanding dawned.

“You boys think you can smell her?” He was treated to the most scornful look a canine was capable of producing and then found himself staring as the two dogs took off into the forest at top speed. “Hey!” he yelled, taking off after them.

They quickly left him far behind, but there was a clear trail of broken branches and crushed plants for him to follow. Distant barks helped him keep orientated, and he stretched out his legs, pushing himself into a sprint.

The first thing he saw was the ruined bike, its front wheel almost completely off and the handlebars turned more than the steering column should have allowed. A few steps farther and he could see past the bike to where Zeus and Apollo were lying next to a figure on the ground. Her helmet was a few feet away from her, and he could see how pale she was, how the blood had soaked into her hair, how her left leg was sitting at an angle the human body was never meant to achieve. He took it all in as he ran to her, dropping to his knees with none of his usual grace.

“Higgins?” he called, feeling a cold rush of fear. “Don’t do this to me.” He pressed his fingers against her neck and tipped his head so his ear was over her mouth. The relief that surged through him when he felt a pulse beneath his fingers and her breath against his cheek was indescribable, but it was tempered by how weak the pulse was, how shallow the breath seemed.

He grabbed his phone and dialled 911, explaining the situation as quickly as he could, including the fact that he was unable to move Higgins any closer to the road. The operator assured him an ambulance would be dispatched with a cot instead of a gurney.

“Just a few more minutes, Higgy. You’ve held on all night. Just hold on a few minutes more.” He kept talking as he hit speed dial, Rick answering on the second ring. “I found her. I think she was hit by a car.”

Rick swore viciously before replying. “I’ll go grab T.C. Let us know which hospital they take her to, and we’ll meet you there.” He hung up, and Magnum went back to talking to Higgins.

She hadn’t shown the slightest sign of a response, and he knew he was only talking to give himself something to do. But he did it anyway, keeping an eye on his watch as the minutes ticked past.

“I don't know if you can hear me or not, so I'll just keep talking until you wake up and tell me to hush." He searched her face for a flicker of consciousness. "Come on, girl," he muttered, "you can do this."

A breathy whimper caught his attention, and his eyes flicked over to Zeus and Apollo. 

“You’re really upsetting the dogs, you know. They’ve been so out of sorts they haven’t even tried to eat me once today. I wonder how long that’ll last once you’re back on your feet. It’d be nice if I didn’t have to worry about them ripping me to shreds while I sleep for a while.”

Still nothing from Higgins, but one of the dogs huffed as if offering an insult.

He was saved from having to figure out how to defend his intelligence against sarcastic hounds from hell by a shout sounding a short way off and two EMTs walking into sight. Magnum listened closely as they talked over Higgins, filing away phrases like “blood pressure dangerously low” and “possible compound fracture.” Part of him, a small part that usually never made itself known, wanted to keep a list of everything she had gone through so he could make whoever was responsible suffer in kind.

He was feeling dangerously angry, and he welcomed the dark-haired EMT interrupting his thoughts.

“We’re ready to transport. Are you planning on coming along?”

“I'll follow in my car." Magnum gestured in the vague direction of the two dogs, on their feet now and watching the EMTs with great interest. "I doubt this pair will be allowed to sit in the waiting room." 

“We’ll be taking her to St. Katherine’s; just go straight to the nurses' station when you get there." And with that they headed off, moving as quickly as they dared over the uneven ground, the cot swaying slightly between them.

\---

They were a quiet, solemn group as they sat in the hospital waiting room. Higgins had been taken to surgery shortly after the ambulance brought her in. Katsumoto had swung by to take a brief statement from Magnum and used his badge to get them an update. The nurse had told them that, between her blood pressure and body temperature both being so low, her condition was critical. She’d looked solemn as she told them in no uncertain terms that the only reason they were risking an operation on someone so weak was because the internal bleeding just wouldn’t wait.

Katsumoto had left shortly after, making them promise to call him as soon as they heard anything. For over three hours now the trio had been sitting in silence, looking up at every footstep. 

“Family of Juliet Higgins?” The young nurse smiled as they stood. “The surgeon will be out to see you shortly, but the operation went well. The internal bleeding has been stopped and the damage to the internal organs was repaired. There’s some bruising to her kidneys, but we’ll be keeping an eye on that. And it turns out that, while her leg was broken, it was a clean break and not a compound fracture as we first thought. There’s still a chance that the head wound will cause issues, but the initial scans are very promising. The biggest issue really was the hypothermia; she was in shock when she got here, and it took longer than we would have liked to get her body temperature back up.”

“But she’s doing okay now?” T.C. sounded nervous, and Magnum and Rick’s faces were echoing the emotion.

The nurse gave them a smile and a nod. “Your friend is one strong lady.” She looked back to her notes for a moment before continuing. “It looks like she’s going to be kept in recovery for a while before we try to get her settled in a room. I’m sorry, but you probably won't be able to see her today.” She watched as the men standing in front of her tried and failed to hide their disappointment and was struck by their concern. She'd been doing her job long enough to recognize genuine worry when she saw it. “Maybe I can arrange for one of you to slip in, just for a minute? If you don’t mind hanging around for a bit.”

Three blinding smiles met her words.

There was no question it would be Magnum who went in when the pretty nurse came back hours later. While Rick flirted with her shamelessly, hanging over the edge of the nurses' desk and T.C. smirked at his friend’s antics, Magnum moved silently across the darkened room to the side of the bed.

“Hey there,” he whispered, having been threatened with various horrible injuries if he should somehow wake the patient. Higgins was still pale, but her breathing was deeper, more regular, and the monitor to the left told him her pulse was steady and strong. “Rick and T.C. are just outside. We can’t stick around too much longer, but I’ll be back first thing tomorrow. Maybe you could do me another huge favor and wake up soon?”

He let his hand touch hers, lightly, just to feel the warmth. “It’s okay if you can’t, we can wait.” He crept out as silently as he had entered. With all the drugs and pain meds she'd been given, there was no chance of Higgins waking up any time soon. Still, once he got back to the guest house, Magnum didn’t even try to go to bed. He told himself he wasn’t worried, that Higgins was one of the strongest people he knew and that she was in good hands. It didn’t work, but he tried.

The TV was playing something that he thought was meant to be a comedy, certainly the audience seemed to be laughing. But Magnum’s stomach was rumbling, and there was no way late-night TV was going to be compelling enough to distract him from it. He was halfway to his kitchen when the thought struck him that he hadn’t seen either of the dogs since he got back and that he hadn’t fed them at all. He took a second to call himself an idiot before rushing through to the main house.

“Zeus? Apollo? I hope you guys know where Higgins keeps your food.” He stopped as he rounded the corner at the top of the stairs and saw the dogs lying outside the door to Higgins’ bedroom. They were flat on their bellies and, even though he was pretty sure they were his mortal enemies in canine form, Magnum couldn’t help but feel awful for not thinking of them.

“C’mon fellas,” he called, patting his leg in the hopes they would follow him. “How do you feel about steak?”

It didn’t take long for the three of them to finish off the meat that Magnum pulled out of his fridge. He’d been surprised by his own appetite and ate until he was feeling an actual pain in his stomach. Forcing himself to move to refill the bowl of water he’d put out for the dogs was the last thing he did before falling fast asleep.

He was woken hours later by barking and felt a moment of panic as his eyes sprung open, hands already coming up to protect his throat. Both dogs were staring at the coffee table, barking at his vibrating phone. He lunged to reach it.

“Hello?”

“Magnum? I was just about to hang up.”

“Katsumoto? What happened? Is something wrong?” Magnum couldn’t help the panic that flared up.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just got a call from the hospital telling me that Higgins is awake and ready for visitors. I’m going to head over, see if she remembers anything about what happened. I thought you might like to know.”

Ten minutes later, after managing to unearth two tins of dog food, Magnum was headed back to the hospital. He saw Katsumoto walking in as he pulled the Ferrari into a parking space and jogged to catch up. They walked into Higgins’ room together and neither of them could hide a sympathetic wince as she turned her head to greet them. Her right eye was swollen half-shut thanks to the cut just above her eyebrow, and she was still pale.

“It’s all right, gents.” Her voice was quiet but steady. “I know I must look an absolute fright.” She gave a small smile, trying to stop the two men from looking so worried.

“You look like you just survived an ordeal,” Magnum said, moving to stand by her bed and patting her shoulder gently. “Nothing ‘frightful’ about that.” His words elicited a genuine smile, and he grinned to see it.

“I need to ask you some questions.” Katsumoto walked around to the other side of the bed, taking out his notebook.

“I don’t know that I can tell you much,” Higgins sighed. “I remember riding my bike and then just a few fragments. Mainly pain and… fear.” The pause wasn’t lost on either man and Magnum squeezed the shoulder his hand was still resting on. “I’m not even certain how I came to be injured.” Her voice shook slightly.

Magnum threw Katsumoto a look that clearly asked, ‘Do you really have to do this now?'

Katsumoto took the hint and closed his notebook. “All right,” he said, as gently as he could. “Magnum can fill you in on the details. If you do remember anything, just call me. Any time.”

The only response he got was a small nod, Higgins clearly feeling the effects of her injuries and painkillers.

As the door closed, Magnum dragged a chair over to the bed and, keeping his voice low, told Higgins all the information he had. He started with how her vicious, evil dogs had snuck up on him while he slept just to see her smile again. By the time he’d gotten around to telling her about the tread marks he’d found, how he suspected she’d been hit by a car and dragged off the road by the panicked driver, she was more than half asleep. He stayed where he was, figuring that the medical staff would kick him out if they needed him to leave.

He was still there hours later when Katsumoto called to say that they were issuing an appeal for information and asking him to tell Higgins.

“We’re not too hopeful to be honest. It’s pretty much our only shot. The scene didn't give us anything to go on."

Higgins, who had been waking up at odd intervals throughout the day, slept through the call, only waking when the dinner trays were brought around. Even though it was nothing but clear liquids and jello, she announced she was feeling far too ‘fuzzy’ to eat anything and told Magnum he was welcome to her jello before falling asleep again. The nurse didn’t seem at all surprised and explained that it was all perfectly normal, that they expected her to stay awake for longer and longer periods quite quickly.

Magnum gave Rick a call, knowing T.C. was out with a tour, and gave him a quick update on Higgins’ condition. Then he settled back down in his chair with her jello in his hand.

Higgins only woke once more before Magnum was chased out of her room by an irate-looking nurse. Higgins seemed more alert than she had been all day, and Magnum was sorry to have to leave her alone. But, like the scary nurse snapped at him, she was still weak and still needed plenty of rest. Higgins gave him a wry grin as he hurried out of her room, hands raised in a gesture of surrender.

"I'll be back in the morning," he called over his shoulder, hearing her quiet, "I'll be waiting," as the door closed. 

He spent some time on the beach that evening, watching as Zeus and Apollo ran up and down the sand, chasing each other into the waves. Magnum thought about joining them but quickly realized he still felt exhausted from the stress of the previous day. He stood still, breathing deeply, letting the lingering heat from the last few rays of the sun warm his muscles. He called the dogs, not really expecting them to respond to him, and was pleasantly surprised when they followed him back to the house. 

The knowledge that Higgins was well on the way to recovery help ease the remaining tension, and he slept well that night, not even bothered by the snoring of the two dogs sprawled at the foot of his bed.

***

When Magnum woke up, it was still early, and he had enough time to get breakfast for Zeus and Apollo and call Rick and T.C. before he left for the hospital.

“Some idiot tried to drug his date,” Rick told him, disgusted. “I’m still dealing with the cops here. Tell Higgy I’ll swing by as soon as I can, okay?”

“I got five tours booked today.” T.C. sounded almost regretful, and Magnum was quick to reassure his friend that Higgins wouldn’t want him losing money over her.

“She was only just starting to wake up when I left last night,” he said. “To be honest, her doctor would probably appreciate us not all piling in at the same time.”

He got to the hospital just as visiting hours were starting and couldn’t hide his smile at the sight of Higgins sitting up in her bed. She still looked pale and confided in him that moving, even via the adjustable bed, had been ‘an exercise in agony.’ But she seemed more awake, more her usual self, and they chatted for a while before she suddenly turned to him with a serious look on her face.

“Did I dream it, or did you say you spent the entire day with Zeus and Apollo?”

Magnum laughed. “It wasn’t a dream. I wouldn’t have found you if it weren’t for them.”

“So you figured it out then?” she asked. She was already starting to look tired again, but he wasn’t about to start an argument by trying to insist she rest.

“Figured it out?” He frowned. “Figured what out?” He was even more confused when Higgins gave a small laugh, being careful not to pull on any of her injuries.

“Those dogs adore you.”

He opened his mouth to argue but she kept talking.

“They’re dogs, Magnum. They like to chase things.”

“Right. Because if they catch me, they get to eat me.”

Her laugh was louder this time. “If they catch you, they’ll fawn all over you. They know that if they growl at you, you’ll run. To them you’re a big stick with long legs that’s always willing to drop everything to play with them at a moment’s notice.” At the look on his face she said, “Try it sometime. Let them catch you.” Then she looked away from him to try to hide a yawn.

He stood and made a show of stretching before complaining about how uncomfortable the chair was. Just as he’d hoped, Higgins immediately told him to go for a walk to ease his cramped muscles, and, when he looked back in the room just ten minutes later, she was fast asleep.

While Magnum waited for Higgins to wake up, Rick and T.C. arrived. T.C. had bought a bunch of flowers, which he placed on the rolling table so Higgins would see them when she woke up, and Rick was carrying a small stuffed bulldog with a British flag wrapped around its neck. The toy was set on top of the flowers, and the three men made themselves comfortable. When Higgins woke up again, she seemed thrilled to see them all, and the four were talking quietly when Katsumoto walked in.

“Detective,” Higgins smiled, her voice strong. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I can't believe I'm saying this," Katsumoto started, getting everyone's attention, "but we have the driver of the car that hit you in custody.” He looked as surprised as they all felt. “When he saw the appeal on his social media and realized he'd left you in the forest to die, he walked straight into the station and turned himself in. Apparently he was distracted trying to change the station on his radio, and, when he looked up, he was too close to you to react.”

Higgins looked astounded and let out a huff of air. “I have to admit that, from what Magnum told me, I didn’t expect to see you find the person who did this.” She smiled at T.C. as he patted her arm then looked back at Katsumoto. “What’ll happen to him?”

“Depends on how generous the D.A. is feeling. He’ll do time for sure.”

Higgins was quiet, and the four men watched as her forehead creased in a frown. “It’s funny,” she said after several long seconds. “I don’t feel as relieved as I thought I might. I almost feel sorry for him.”

“That’s the downside of punishing people for accidents.” She looked at Magnum as he spoke, and he took a deep breath as he felt the anger that had been burning inside him suddenly fizzle away with a realization. “What he did was wrong, and he’s going to pay for it, but it wasn’t deliberately evil… He did a terrible thing, and he’s got to suffer the consequences for it, but it was a terrible decision and not a malicious attack…” He looked at her hesitantly, suddenly terrified he had just put his foot in his mouth. When she nodded ever so slightly, he pushed forward. “You feel like it’s less like you’re getting justice and more like everyone loses,” he finished.

She sighed softly and nodded again. “Precisely.”

Magnum offered her a smile and put his hand on top of hers. “Whatever happens next, I’m just glad we didn’t lose you over this.”

Rick and T.C. both echoed Magnum’s words and even Katsumoto nodded. The four men stayed for a while longer, lowering their voices as Higgins' eyes started to drop but still keeping the conversation going. Finally, after her breathing had evened out, they all stood and slipped quietly away.

The last one out, Magnum carefully pulled the blanket a little higher over her and flicked the overhead light off before he left, making sure she would have a peaceful night.


	2. Chapter 2- Idiots and Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Higgins couldn't get free. And the smoke was getting thicker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rick's turn to shine as his dodgy contacts come through

To say that Higgins was annoyed would be to offer a vast understatement to the situation. In fact she was royally pissed off. It was bad enough that she had allowed Magnum, her perennially unwelcome house guest, to drag her into yet another of his absurd cases. To allow herself to be captured by the Tweedledum and Tweedledee of crime was downright humiliating. She was aching all over, and her head was throbbing in time with her heartbeat. She tugged at the handcuffs that were pinning her wrists to a pipe above her head. Nothing had happened the last time she had tried using brute force to shift them, but she didn’t have the leverage to dislocate her thumb. Sure enough, apart from more blood welling up from beneath the too tight metal, she didn’t affect the slightest change.

“Quit trying to yank yourself free,” yelled Tweedledum from across the hangar. He was more focused on the card game he was playing with his brother than on her. “All you’re doing is hurting yourself and annoying us.”

Higgins huffed in response, thinking that there was no way the two men could ever be as annoyed by her chains rattling as she was with her situation. But she didn’t say anything. When she had first woken up, nearly three days ago, she thought, to see them grinning at her from across the old warehouse, she had resolved not to speak so much as a single word to these buffoons.

As if sensing her thoughts, Tweedledum threw down his cards and walked over to her. He had a smile on his face that Higgins thought was meant to be charming. Unfortunately for him, thanks to her frequent exposure to Magnum and his genuine, natural charm, she had developed quite an immunity to magnetism. And there was the fact that this particular facial expression made the man kneeling in front of her look a little like a weasel. The definitely didn’t help.

“You might as well get cozy. You won't be going anywhere until the boss gets here, and he's a very busy man.” He ran his fingers down her cheek, and she resisted the urge to turn away. Instead, she met his gaze with a withering stare and had the satisfaction of seeing him flinch.

She could have told him that his hand was clammy and his very touch nauseated her. She could have told him that, the instant he realised she had been kidnapped, Magnum would have called the authorities and the island was doubtless crawling with people, some of them highly trained soldiers, looking for her. She could even have told him that she had been trained in counter-interrogation techniques. She settled for smirking at his discomfort before looking away, dismissing him from her presence as utterly as if he had spontaeneously ceased to exist. 

He pushed himself upright and stomped back to the table with a curse. Tweedledee snickered, prompting Tweedledum to cuff him around the back of the head. An outraged cry and a flying fist later the two of them were rolling on the floor. Higgins watched in disbelief as they pummeled each other, feeling more embarrassed than ever. How had these two half-wits managed to capture her? For that matter, how had they managed to evade Magnum and HPD for so long? Giving him a hard time might be a daily occurrence for her, but, no matter how many insults and barbs she threw his way, she couldn’t deny the fact that Magnum really was very good at his job. Katsumoto was hampered by rules and laws, but she was genuinely surprised her boys hadn't come charging in already.

She took a breath, closed her eyes, and tuned out the kerfuffle that was the two least skilled brawlers she had ever had the misfortune to see.

‘Focus on the case,’ she told herself firmly. ‘You’ve missed something. And if you don’t figure out what by the time you next see him, Magnum will lord it over you for days.’

***

The client looked exhausted, face pale and eyes bloodshot. He’d arrived almost thirty minutes ago, and Magnum was starting to feel like he was never going to get to the point. He made a snap decision.

“Why don’t we go through to the main building?” he asked, typing a quick text message to Higgins. “My associate has an office there.” The man, Matthew Phillips, nodded and sighed heavily as he stood, as if just lifting his body weight was too much of an effort for him. Getting to Higgins’ office didn’t take too long, maybe two minutes, but, by the time Magnum was pushing open the door, she had closed whatever majordomo business she had been working on, opened a search on Phillips, and was just pouring a cup of coffee.

“Hello there. Mr. Phillips isn't it. It's a pleasure to meet you,” she greeted with a beaming smile directed at Phillips. “Do you take cream or sugar?”

Higgins at her English best was a lot to take in, and the poor man seemed a little bowled over, a feeling Magnum had seen reflected on plenty of faces when people first met the blonde.

“Cream, please.” Phillips dropped into the chair that Higgins waved her hand at, starting badly as Zeus and Apollo appeared out of nowhere and sniffed at him curiously.

“Easy, lads,” came the gently spoken command, even though Higgins still hadn’t actually looked up from preparing her own coffee. “Let the poor man breathe.” The Dobermans trotted obediently over to sprawl on the floor beside the chair she was lowering herself into. “Now, Mr. Phillips, please tell me why you feel you need our services.”

And there it was. As hard as he tried, Magnum could never seem to completely remove the sympathy from his voice. But Higgins, for all that he knew she cared for their clients as much as he did, was able to pull off a sort of matter-of-factness that seemed to inspire the worried clients to spill everything. He blamed the accent.

“I got married a year ago,” Phillips began, sipping at the coffee. “We’d only been dating a few months, but it was…” He paused. “It was just one of those things. We both knew it was perfect. And we’ve been so happy. Or, at least we were happy. But a few months ago Hayley, my wife, she got a promotion.”

The look on Higgins’ face told Magnum she already knew all this but she nodded encouragingly.

Phillips caught the nod and sighed again. “We had to relocate out here in order for her to take the job. For the first few weeks, it was like paradise. But she started having problems at work, and she was spending more and more time at the office, and I started…” He squirmed slightly and looked away from Higgins’ gaze. “I started to feel lonely, and I went to this club and met a uh…” He trailed off again, blushing hard and Higgins took pity on him.

“A working girl?” she asked, her accent making it sound like an official title.

Phillips gave a jerky nod and a nervous smile. “We didn’t actually, you know, do anything. I went up to a room with her, and then I got kinda tired and laid down on the bed and then… Well, when I woke up, she had vanished and so had the cash I had in my wallet.” He tipped his mug to his lips only to find it was empty.

Higgins immediately stood and lifted the coffee pot, refilling his cup as she asked, “So where do we come in, Mr. Phillips?” leaving Magnum nodding in approval at the adroit handling of this man who was now eagerly rifling through his pockets.

“A few days after, just as I was thinking ‘no harm, no foul’ and that I should just forget I had ever been such an idiot,” he pulled an envelope out of his pocket, nearly spilling the coffee in the process, “this appeared in my mailbox.” The images were graphic to say the least, with the dim lighting making them seem somehow even more sordid. It took a calm eye to look past the flesh on display to see that Phillips’ eyes were closed in every shot, that his hands were being held in place by the woman.

“I can see why these would be upsetting,” Higgins offered, not a trace of shock or judgment in her voice.

Magnum knew his own eyes were wide and was grateful for Higgins all over again.

“But it seems rather obvious that this woman drugged you in order to stage these pictures. Wouldn’t you be able to explain them away to your wife as an unfortunate encounter with an enterprising prostitute while making yourself out to be innocent of wrongdoing?"

Magnum sat forward, listening intently. He’d managed to drag the rest of the story out of Phillips, but this was all new to him too.

“This woman, if it is her, she isn’t threatening to tell Hayley. She’s threatening to send copies of these to my boss. I could lose my job and my security clearance.”

Magnum and Higgins nodded in understanding.

“You work for an engineering company,” Higgins said, and Phillips blinked in surprise. “I take it your company handles government contracts? Hence the emphasis on security.” She didn’t wait for him to reply. “In which case, the idea that a high-level employee would leave himself open to manipulation by frequenting call girls could well lead to any current projects falling under review.”

Phillips nodded miserably, and Magnum stood, walking around the table to stand next to Higgins’ chair. “There’s a few more questions we need to ask you.”

***

The two buffoons had quit wrestling with each other and gone back to playing cards. They kept dealing and drawing like they were playing Texas Hold ‘Em but neither seemed to know what constituted a winning hand. Tweedledum slapped down a hand, and Higgins was bemused by his cry of, “Yes! A two, a four, a seven. I win again!” She was even more confused when Tweedledee shook his head and dropped his own cards on the table. 

“And me with nothing but garbage. Three queens and ace and a two.”

She wondered briefly if they were playing at being stupid, if it was all just an elaborate act. As she pondered their intelligence, she was staring directly at them and Tweedledee noticed.

“See anything you like?”

She looked away quickly as they both sniggered, refusing to reply even to insult them.

“Maybe that’s why she’s being so quiet.” Tweedledee stood and crossed the room to stand in front of Higgins. “Maybe she’s not talking because she’s trying to figure out how to tell us how amazing she thinks we are.” He crouched in front of her, and his hand flashed out, grabbing her face and pulling it around to look at him. “Maybe she’ll talk if we give her a good reason.” He slid his hand up into her hair and tugged, dragging her face towards his.

His nails were digging into her scalp, and Higgins did the only thing she could think of; she spat in his face.

His mouth twisted, and he used his grip on her hair to yank her head upright and swung at her with his other hand. He caught her across the cheekbone with a crack that seemed to echo in the nearly empty room. She was so dizzy from the blow she wasn’t sure what he called her as he lurched to his feet, although she was reasonably certain it was something unimaginative. A loud metallic squeal made her vision throb and told her Tweedledee had forced open the door to the loading bay and a clattering told her Tweedledum had rushed off after him.

She took advantage of their absence to let her exhaustion show. Her head was spinning and her vision was blurred and there was a roaring in her ears. She hadn't really slept since she'd first regained consciousness, and it had been two days since Tweedledum or Tweedledee had bothered to offer her any food or water. She tried to marshal her thoughts again and, for a terrifying moment, was unable to recall even the smallest of facts related to the case. She took a deep breath, in through the nose and out through the mouth, and started combing back through the case again.

***

“All I’m saying is that neither of these two look like they’ve got the brains to pull off a blackmail scheme.” Magnum had been watching their hooker, Martha, all day, sitting outside the bar where she was serving for over an hour. He’d called Higgins just after lunch, and the two had left the line open since.

“I’m not disagreeing with you, Magnum.” Higgins had spent the day watching Martha’s boyfriend-slash-pimp at his construction site job, and her voice was full of exaggerated patience. “What I am saying is that these two are the only lead we have.”

Magnum didn't have any choice but to agree with that. Phillips still hadn’t received an actual demand to go with the blackmail threat, so the girl and the photographer were all they had. Finding Martha had been as simple as talking to the bartender at the club Phillips had pointed them to. Finding Tony, her ‘manager,’ hadn’t taken long either, thanks to Higgins and her flexible view on state privacy laws. And now the two of them were stuck running surveillance on opposite sides of the island.

“What I don’t understand is why they included a threatening note but didn’t include their demands. Why tell a man you have the capability to ruin his job and not bother to tell him what he needs to do to prevent it?” Higgins’ tone had changed, and Magnum wondered what she was watching Tony do.

“Psy ops,” he answered. “Let him stew, let his imagination run away with him for a while, and he’ll soften himself up for them. Then, when they tell him what they want from him, money or proprietary intel, say, he’s less likely to balk.”

Higgins hummed in agreement, the line crackling slightly though Magnum’s cheap headset. “I could be wrong,” and her voice suggested she absolutely didn't think she was, “but I’m pretty certain that the man currently trying to drive a forklift beneath scaffolding with the forks raised simply isn’t capable of planning something this sophisticated.”

Magnum grinned, his smile only getting bigger when a distant-sounding crash echoed through his headphones. “Let me guess. Tony just knocked down the scaffolding?”

“He did indeed.” And didn’t she sound amused, laughter clear in her voice.

Magnum was happy to hear it, and happy to take the opportunity to joke with her. “I could be wrong,” he started, making sure to keep his voice light so she wouldn’t think he was making fun of her, “but something tells me our friend just lost his job.”

Higgins laughed outright, the sound making the phone line sing.

***

‘Okay,’ she told herself as firmly as she could. ‘Phillips was set up by Martha and Tony. But they weren’t the ones interested in blackmailing him.” She glanced over at the open door where Tweedledum and Tweedledee were still standing, seemingly in the middle of yet another argument. ‘These two don't seem to fit in with the blackmail at all. The only thing they care about is this 'boss' of theirs. So maybe he's the one behind those photos?' It was just so hard to think. She blinked hard as her vision swam sickeningly, all thoughts of the case driven out of her head by the way the hangar seemed to lurch around her. By the time she’d managed to open her eyes again, her ‘guards’ had left the doorway, and she had no idea where they had gone.

She tried tugging on the cuffs again. Her shoulders and arms were aching from being held up over her head for so long and her wrists were throbbing and burning. A particularly vicious pull, born of frustration, sent a droplet of blood running down her arm and she changed tacts. She tried to force her hands close enough to the wall that she could push her thumb against it. She thought she might be able to do it hard enough to force the digits out of their sockets and slip off the cuffs, assuming that dislocating the thumb actually helped. She'd only ever picked handcuffs before, but she thought she remembered being told that the so called 'old trick" was really a myth. All she managed to do was make something in her neck crunch with an eye-watering flash of pain.

There was the taste of blood in her mouth, and she let her head fall again. Her chest was heaving, her body felt like it had endured a beating, and she was starting to think that Magnum making fun of her might not be the worst of her concerns after all. She forced herself to lift her throbbing head again and look toward the door. No sign of either man, good.

She started shifting her body as much as she could, reasoning that the aches and pains were down to the enforced lack of movement as much as the dehydration. First, she bent and pointed her toes, then rotated her feet, rolling her ankles. Just those small movements made ripples of pain run along her nerve endings. She could feel a sense of worry welling up and knew from both her training and past experience that, if she let it, it could easily bubble over into panic.

‘Slow your breathing,’ she told herself, matching her actions to her words. ‘Control your body.’ She forced every muscle to relax, starting with her feet and working her way up until she reached her stomach. Her entire body froze at the pain that met her attempt to shift her muscles, and she couldn’t help the cry that forced its way past her lips. She felt dizzy and sick and the worry was dangerously close to panic and something was tugging at her consciousness.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t want to.”

Higgins realised with a shock that she had blacked out and that Tweedledum had returned.

He was fumbling with the one set of cuffs, tugging painfully on her right hand. He had the key in his hand. “He made me do it. But this is too much! I didn’t even want to hit your car, honest!”

“My…” Her throat was so dry she struggled to get the words out. “My car?”

***

Magnum didn’t look up as the car door opened, intent on the crossword he was resting on his lap.

“Enjoying yourself?” Higgins’ voice was acidic, and he sighed.

“Martha’s been in there for over an hour. I was bored.”

“Tony has been walking around aimlessly for over three hours. I’m exhausted!” She huffed a little and reached down to rub her calf muscles.

Magnum grinned and shook his head a little, knowing full well she was only doing it to prove her point. “Coffee?” he offered, grabbing the cup from its perch next to him on the seat.

She turned to him with a small smile. “You got me coffee?”

“Of course. You’ve been walking around after Tony for hours. I thought you’d be exhausted.” He looked back down at the newspaper as she pulled a face that clearly said she was annoyed that he had preempted her complaint.

Not too annoyed to take the coffee, though. She sipped the latte with every indication of pleasure before settling back in the seat. They sat in silence for a short while. Magnum was pretty sure she was waiting for him to ask her for help with the crossword, and he was just trying to decide if she would be more annoyed if he asked or not when she suddenly turned to face him.

“Magnum? Was this cup sitting on that seat? That seat which would cost more to reupholster than you have made since you came to Hawaii?”

He was saved from answering by a blue Ford pulling up to the curb in front of Martha’s house. The driver hurried up the steps to the front door, banging loudly. Magnum and Higgins watched intently, coffee and crossword and leather upholstery forgotten. After just a few minutes, the door opened again and the man reappeared, Martha and Tony trailing after him. They looked unhappy and seemed to be muttering to each other.

“I’ll follow this chap,” Higgins said, already opening the door. She was out of the Ferrari and back in her Rover before any of the trio turned around.

Magnum watched as the mystery man said something to the young couple that made them both flinch before he got back into his car. He took off at speed, followed at a more sedate pace by Higgins. Magnum didn’t like her taking off after an unknown target without backup, but he had to admit she was more than capable of dealing with most things their cases threw at her. And he was fairly sure he could trust her not to do anything stupid. 

He made a quick decision and grabbed his phone, leaving the car as soon as Tony had slammed the front door behind him. If he could get close enough to the house to find a window that was cracked open, he might be able to over hear something of interest. He sent a quick message to Higgins, just so she would know that he wasn’t sitting around in the Ferrari while she was busy working.

“Gonna listen to lovebirds. Good luck with your tail.” Higgins smiled as the text-to-voice read the message aloud, appreciating the fact that Magnum was keeping her informed. Not that she would ever tell him that of course. She didn’t take her eyes off the Ford either, that would have been bad form. She wished she had her laptop to check the registration of the car but had to settle for snapping a picture of the license plate with her phone while they were stopped at a red light, telling herself she would do a deep dive on the owner as soon as she was back at Robin’s Nest. Keeping three cars between her and the Ford meant she couldn’t be sure, but she thought the driver was on his phone and amended her plans.

‘First thing I’ll do is get his phone records,’ she told herself, ‘then I’ll do a deep dive. Something interesting is bound to turn up somewhere.’ Unfortunately, it didn’t look like this guy was headed home; he was getting farther and farther away from the residential areas, and the roads were getting quieter. Luckily, they were staying fairly straight so she wasn’t finding it too hard to keep an eye on him while maintaining her distance. At least, she thought she had done a decent job of staying inconspicuous, but the Ford suddenly accelerated, and she stepped down a little harder, too, worried about losing him and facing days, if not weeks, of distinctly unfunny jokes at her expense.

She didn’t even see the pickup coming. It had been idling in a turn off, waiting for her to draw level. The driver floored the gas, and the truck lurched forward and slammed into the passenger side of the Rover with a scream of metal on metal.

Higgins felt the steering wheel tear out of her hands as her body was thrown against the door, the seatbelt biting deep into her skin.

***

“You ran me off the road.” Her voice was still so weak, and her throat was so dry. She hated how helpless it made her sound.

“It wasn’t my idea. You pissed off the wrong guy, sniffing around Tony.” He was still struggling to get the key in the lock of the cuffs, and a yell made him jump.

“Move!” roared the voice that Higgins just recognised as Tweedledum. “It’s spreading, now come on!” Tweedledee gave her a stricken look, panic and fear in his eyes, and she felt that bubble of panic welling up inside her chest again.

“Wait, please.” She didn’t even know what she was asking him to do, she was just suddenly sure that she desperately needed his help. “Please.” She let the panic boil over, let him see the fear she was feeling. But he was backing away from her, the key still in his hand.

“I’m sorry!” And he turned and ran back out through the door. Higgins squinted at the opening, trying to calm herself back down. She knew the science behind adrenaline and the adverse effect it had on the formation of memories. ‘You didn’t remember the crash because you’ve been in survival mode this whole time,’ she told herself, trying to soothe her jangling nerves. 'They even have a name for it, something-or-other amnesia.' It didn't help much. Forgetting the crash and not even realising she was missing time was more than a little unsettling. She started to worry about what else she might have forgotten. But she kept frowning over at the door, confused by the haze that seemed to be creeping in through it.

“Oh my god!” she gasped. It was smoke. Those buffoons had set a fire. They had cemented their positions as blundering idiots, but they were going to do it at the cost of her life. Forcing the panic back down with a brutal efficiency, she focused on the adrenaline that was coursing through her as she wrenched her arms downward as hard as she could. If she couldn’t free herself soon, she wouldn’t need to worry about the fire; the smoke would get to her first. That was how it went, wasn’t it? The smoke would fill the room ahead of the flames and suffocate her.

Or maybe that wasn’t right? She vaguely remembered an assembly on fire safety at her primary school. A firefighter in full gear singing a song about how to escape a house fire. The chorus, “there’s air on the floor!” sprang into her mind, and she was suddenly grateful she was sitting down. She knew she was focusing on all the wrong things, that she needed to get her hands free of the cuffs before she became nothing but a sad memory, but she couldn’t seem to get her thoughts to line up. She tried, she really did, and finally she was able to bully her body into listening.

She lifted herself up, ignoring the screaming protests of her muscles, until all her weight was hanging on her wrists. At the same time, she strained every muscle in her arms, trying to bend them down. She didn’t even bother trying not to scream at the pain. Instead, she used the sound to push herself further, taking advantage of her empty lungs to bend at the waist and put more pressure on the pipe and the cuffs. Nothing shifted, and she had no choice but to drop back to the floor.

One breath was all the time she gave herself. Then she took all the pain she was feeling and pushed it back with a ferocity and determination that would have told anyone watching that this was not her first life-or-death situation. Her handler had once given her a lecture on changing the angle of consideration. He was talking about flipping an asset, but it would work here, too. Her mind seized the thought and wouldn’t let go. Standing was torturous, but she did it, dragging her stiff aching legs under her thighs and surging upwards with a strength born of pure terror. She spun as she rose, crossing her arms in front of her, ignoring the pain as the cuffs tore into her wrists. She could hear the flames now; they were spreading quickly, feeding on the paper that had been abandoned when the warehouse was closed.

She planted one foot firmly on the wall and pushed back, hoping her legs would be strong enough to break the pipe free of its brackets. The panic was slithering around her body, her heart was racing, lungs straining, and she kicked against the wall again. She didn’t even see the drops of blood as they fell from the torn skin on her wrists. The smoke was so thick she was struggling to keep her eyes open, and her throat was stinging. From somewhere off to her left, she heard a crashing sound and whipped her head around to try to peer through the smoke.

Too fast. She moved too fast. The world tipped, and she tumbled along with it.

***

When Magnum first called Katsumoto to tell him Higgins had gone missing, she had only been gone for three hours.

“You’re being paranoid, Magnum,” the detective had said. “She was tailing someone? So maybe she’s still driving and can’t answer her phone.” He hadn’t sounded too convinced though; experience had taught him that if someone thought Magnum or any member of his entourage was in trouble, they were probably right. “I’ll ask patrol to keep an eye out, but I can’t do any more than that this early.”

As security consultant, Magnum had access to the GPS data of all of Robin’s cars. As a casual technology user, he had issues with the tracking program. He’d made a mental note to tell Higgins they needed to get the user interface sorted out before calling Kumu and asking for help. Between them, they’d managed to download the info, and he had raced off, the bad feeling in his gut getting stronger with every minute. When he’d pulled up on the side road and seen the wreck of the Rover, his entire body had frozen, and he’d been convinced that he was about to find Higgins’ body strapped into the driver’s seat.

His relief at finding the car empty had lasted for as long as it took for his brain to form the thought ‘she’s gone.’ And then the bad feeling had come surging back. Two days later, he felt like he was running on fumes.

The constant anxiety was wearing away his nerves, and his only consolation was the fact that everyone else was just as edgy as he was. They had taken to using the study as a base of operations, Katsumoto for once actually encouraging him to stick his nose into the case. He nearly jumped as Rick came hurrying in.

“Ice Pick finally came through,” he said quickly. “There’s a guy he knows, did some work for him a while back. Rumor has it he’s been arranging manpower for some wannabe kingpin, and the last job was something to do with a short-notice snatch-and-grab.”

“That’s not a whole lot to go on.” But even as he questioned the intel, Magnum was already moving.

“I saved the best for last, brother. The target was a blonde in a Rover.”

They had a quick conversation in the car and agreed that, with his background, Rick should do all the talking. Less than an hour later, the three of them, Magnum and T.C. flanking Rick, walked into a small, dingy-looking coffee shop. Two men jumped to their feet at their entrance, trying to look casual while resting their hands on their barely concealed guns. The trio didn’t even pretend to be interested in getting a drink. Rick hung back while T.C. walked straight up to the men, Magnum two steps behind him.

“Our boss is here to see Mr. Kalama.” He jerked his head in Rick’s direction.

The two men looked at each other in confusion, clearly unused to facing people who weren’t intimidated by them.

A voice called out from the booth at the far end of the cafe. “Let them through. Ice Pick told me to expect a guest.” The speaker stood as Rick walked past the two guards and slid into the free bench, not bothering to look to see if Magnum and T.C. were following. 

“I’ll get right to the point,” he said, not waiting for Mr. Kalama to sit down. “You arranged for some guys to kidnap a woman a couple days back and stash her somewhere. I want to know where.” He kept his face blank as Mr. Kalama gave him a searching glance. Rick had hoped to simply pay for the information, but he had spent enough time around criminals to know that he was going to have to intimidate the man sitting opposite him. He let the silence drag on.

“Even if I knew of this kidnapping, why would I tell you anything?” Mr. Kalama smirked and his two guards chuckled.

Rick didn’t react, careful not to even blink, but Magnum and T.C. both shifted their weight. It was a slight movement, the sort of adjustment of balance a fighter might make before going on the offensive, and Mr. Kalama noticed.

He raised his hands, palm out. “Now now, no need for unpleasantness. If I were to, ah, come across any relevant information, I’m sure we could arrange -” He stopped talking abruptly as Rick slammed his hands down on the table with an echoing crack.

“I didn’t come here to be jerked around by some pissant middle man,” he growled. They had all been keeping a tight hold on their worry and anger since Magnum had found the wreck of Higgins’ car, and Rick pulled every ounce of it up to the surface now. “You are going to tell me; that’s a definite. The question is whether you tell me now or later.” Rick’s hands shot out and gripped Mr. Kalama’s wrists, squeezing tightly. “We can have a civilized conversation, after which my associates and I will leave and you can forget all about us. Or I can spend the next week peeling the skin off your body, strip by strip, while you beg to tell me everything you have ever known.” 

He gave a tug, and Mr. Kalama half fell across the table. Rick was dimly aware of Magnum and T.C. fighting with the guards, but he didn’t look away, trusting his brothers to handle themselves. “I should warn you that I am not a patient man.”

Less than a minute later, the door to the coffee shop swung open and T.C. held the door for Rick to walk through, Magnum watching the bloodied guards to make sure they didn’t try anything clever. By the time T.C. had gotten in the car, Magnum had already called Katsumoto and given him the address Kalama had given Rick. Whatever warnings the detective was going to give him about not rushing into things was lost in the scream of rubber on asphalt as T.C. gunned the engine.

***

The doors of the car that had crashed through the back wall of the hangar burst open and three figures climbed out, tying damp strips of something that was once a t-shirt over their mouths. They immediately split up, each headed to a different wall, moving fast. After a minute, one yelled, “Over here!” and all three were soon gathered about Higgins’ slumped form.

Rick and T.C. started picking the locks of the cuffs, wincing at the blood that made their job that much harder. Magnum pulled off his shirt, dumped a bottle of water over it, and wrapped it gently around Higgins’ face. He wasn’t even sure if she was still breathing until he lifted her head.

The cuffs clicked open, the two men gently catching her arms as they fell, crossing them over her chest. Magnum slid his arms around her and scooped her up, and they ran, diving back into the car. T.C. threw it in reverse, and they all held on as the wheels screeched in protest. As soon as they were far enough away to be safe from the flames and out of the smoke, T.C. stopped the car again, and he and Rick went to the back to lift Higgins gently to the ground.

She was coughing a little and shifting but didn't respond as they called her name. Magnum stayed with her, cradling her head in his lap, while Rick and T.C. walked over to the road to flag down the emergency vehicles. Even though they weren't in the Ferrari, they had still managed to leave them behind.

First up was Katsumoto, who nearly leapt from his car when he saw the smoke billowing in the air. The ambulance that was following him was waved over to where Magnum was sitting, worry on his face as Higgins still stubbornly refused to wake up.

For a while, the lot was a hive of activity. Firefighters were called to control the flames and hopefully prevent the fire from spreading. Additional units were called to help evacuate the nearby buildings. Katsumoto tried to chastise Magnum for running off headlong, the effect of which was spoiled a bit by the way the detective kept looking over at the ambulance with concern written all over his face.

"I’ve got a man sitting in a coffee shop claiming you three intimidated him!” Katsumoto snapped.

"He's not wrong." Magnum didn't look the slightest bit repentant, and Katsumoto's frown deepened.

Both men glanced at the ambulance where the EMTs seemed to be fussing over Higgins' wrists, the woman herself finally awake but looking pale behind the oxygen mask they had strapped over her face.

"You can't just bully people, Magnum, even if they are criminals. It makes my job that much harder when I try to get charges to stick." But Magnum was just nodding and Katsumoto knew he wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention. He glanced behind the P.I. to where Rick and T.C. were standing. They were both watching the EMTs, too, and Katsumoto suddenly deflated.

"Looks like they're nearly ready to leave. Go with her to the hospital," he said quietly. "And let me know how she is."

Magnum gave him a searching look before answering. "Of course we will." He turned to head over to the car, but Katsumoto called to him one last time.

"Oh, and Magnum? Be sure not to tell Higgins you drove one of Robin Masters' cars into a burning warehouse before I get there. I can't wait to see that conversation."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good old Katsumoto. He doesn't care at all, does he? Lol.


	3. Chapter 3- Stalking Through the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He saw her pale skin, her blonde hair. It was her. It was Libby! And he needed to get her back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning- Deals with a man stalking and attacking a woman. Also, this very clearly shows the man in question has mentional/emotional issues. As always, I have very deliberately taken symptoms from various different problems with the intention of preventing my OC from being diagnosed by the reader in the hopes that it will avoid giving offense. These two things are very sensitive subjects for some so, if you think there is a chance you will react badly to this chapter, please, please, please, read something else.
> 
> Katsumoto's turn to play hero. We love us some heroic!Katty!

He smiled as the moon rose, soaking up the pale light. While others chose to frolic in the bright sunshine, he preferred the night, had since she had left him. Dark sky and quiet streets, windows cracked open to reveal sleeping people, exhausted by the day. Nighttime was his time now, time to come alive, time to work. He lifted himself over the wall, moving carefully to avoid hitting the aluminum foil covering the alarm sensors mounted on the brick. Rustling noises told him he’d been heard, but that didn’t bother him; he was prepared. He’d been planning this job for days. His hand was already in his pocket as he dropped to the ground, and, as the dogs came bursting out of the underbrush, he whipped out the aerosol and pressed the button. The dogs scrambled to a stop, pawing at their muzzles and whimpering before dropping to the ground, breathing heavily and out cold.

He smirked, looking at them with cold eyes. They were no better than the man who owned them, expending all their energy running around in the sun and utterly useless come nightfall. He strode away from them, moving fast, silent on rubber soles, but stopped abruptly as the house came into sight and he saw light blazing in the windows. He froze, unwilling to leave but not wanting to risk a confrontation. The aerosol was only good for canines, and he didn’t have a weapon apart from a small pocket knife that he usually used to jimmy open latched windows. Faint sounds of music came drifting over to him on the gentle breeze, and he swore viciously.

A party? Not enough that the place was full of staff during the day, but now it was full at night too. A party meant people and light and noise, three things he was always desperate to avoid. Then his head tipped to the side as he considered his options. A party in a place like this probably meant serving staff too. Lots of new faces that no one would expect to recognize. Maybe he could get close enough to pick out some of the more valuable pieces, save himself some time when he returned. Because he already knew that he would be coming back. It was too easy a job, and there was far too much money to be made for him to let one little setback deter him. It was risky, walking in without knowing whom he’d be bumping into, but, as long as he projected the right air of belonging, he was pretty sure he could pull it off.

Decision made, he crept closer to the house, one big, uncurtained window drawing his eye. He could see people milling around, passing in front of the glass, and he stopped to try to do a quick headcount. Two people? That couldn’t be right. He moved closer, risking being seen but desperate to know what was going on. He knelt by the side of the nearly floor-length window and used the voices he could hear as a point of reference. Four or five, that still seemed odd. Not enough for a party, certainly not one involving catering or waiters. He risked a quick glance in through the window, stretching his head slowly to the side, peering through and dropping quickly back to his knees.

Four of them, all sitting around a table playing some sort of card game. He’d never cared for gambling, but he guessed they were playing poker. Each had a pile of coins in front of them. Raucous laughter burst out, spilling into the night around him. Figuring the group would be too distracted to notice, he leaned over again, looking longer this time. In front of him was the dark-haired man with the loud taste in shirts. He knew from the days he’d spent reconning the place that this guy was something to do with the security of the house. On either side of him were his friends, the pilot and the nightclub manager. Which meant the blonde with her back to him was the property manager. He frowned at the four of them; he hadn’t realized they were all so close, and he wondered what else he might have missed.

“Honestly, boys, when you said cheating was the name of the game, I expected you all to be much better at it.”

Her accent made him snarl. Just listening to her talk was enough to tell him that she was stuck-up, that she thought she was better than everyone else. Although if that were true, she wouldn’t be playing card games with these guys at one in the morning, would she? It took a phenomenal effort not to groan out loud. Clearly their friendship wasn’t the only thing he had missed. This was a nightmare. He couldn’t depend on the information he had gathered at all.

Frustration made him punch the ground in front of him, forgetting for the moment to be quiet. His entire body froze as he heard one of the men say, “Did you guys hear that?” He didn’t even breathe. Then the voice continued. “Higgy here wants us to believe that she has the third ace.” Relief washed over him, and his body sagged. He couldn’t stay much longer, the Dobermans were bigger than his usual targets, and he wanted to make sure he was well away before they even started twitching. But he couldn’t resist one more look through the window, puzzling over what else he might have overlooked. 

He saw the three men throw their cards down, laughter ruining the disgusted looks on their faces. He heard the woman, Higgy apparently, say, “Are you gents certain you’ve played this game before?” as she pulled the pile of coins from the center of the table to add to the rest of her winnings. “Cheer up,” she said, standing. “I’ll get you all a beer.”

He watched as she walked away, shrinking back in case he was spotted but keeping his eyes on her. He hadn’t paid much attention to her, dismissing her as ‘not-a-threat,’ and he was struck by her slender figure, her easy laughter at the men’s continued good-natured grumbling. When she turned back, beers in hand, for just a fraction of a second he thought they locked eyes with one another, and he jerked back as though he’d been burned. His recon was always at a distance and never for longer than three days, so he hadn’t been close enough nor interested enough to see her face clearly before. He ran back toward the wall where he had left the dogs, his heart pounding.

It was her. It was Libby. She’d come back to him!

***

He spent the next day in bed, tossing and turning, filled with a restless energy that had made sleeping impossible. He’d always known Libby hadn’t really left him, always known she’d come back to him sooner or later. They were soulmates, she’d always said so, and no power in the universe was strong enough to keep soulmates apart. But why was she living with that idiot P.I.? When did she start drinking beer? Why hadn’t she come to him? He had so many questions tumbling around in his mind that his brain started to stutter and dark thoughts started to creep in through his feverish excitement.

Maybe she hadn’t bothered trying to find him. Maybe she had decided that the fool was her soulmate now. But that couldn’t be right. There must be an explanation. Amnesia, like in the movies. She didn’t leave because she wanted to; she left because she didn’t remember him. All he needed to do was remind her of who she really was, who he was, and his life could go back to normal. No more skulking around at night, breaking into homes and stealing trinkets. With Libby back in his life, he could face the sun again. They could walk out into the daylight, hand-in-hand, like they had before, and he could rejoin the world. He just needed a chance to help her remember their life together, the life they should still be living.

He scrabbled about on the bedside table for a pen, notebook already on the bed beside him. His hand was practically shaking as he scribbled notes on the page. Everything he remembered about their relationship: how they’d met, the topics they’d discussed, the food she’d liked. Everything went onto the pages to be broken down later. He’d look at everything, every detail, and come up with a plan. He would be methodical and orderly, her memory would come back to her, and she would come back to him.

List complete, page after page filled, he dropped back against his pillow. His hand was aching from the death grip he’d had on the pen, but he didn’t care. He knew what he was going to do. His mind quiet, his eyes closed, he drifted off to sleep.

The dead woman in the bathtub didn’t intrude upon his dreams at all.

***

Higgins smiled as her eyes left the laptop screen and landed on the flowers again. They’d been delivered just as she’d finished breakfast, a stunning arrangement of plumeria and light pink roses. The card attached had said only, "For Higgy." She wasn’t sure which of her boys had sent them or why, but she didn’t really care. They were beautiful, and she’d happily taken them through into her study. Looking away from the flowers left her staring at Zeus and Apollo, still lying where she’d left them as she’d gone to open the door for the florist. They hadn’t even lifted their heads as she’d left the room, and she was worried about them. 

Turning back to her work, fingers flying over the keyboard, she wondered idly if the flowers were the boys’ way of cheering her up, knowing how worried she was about her dogs. She smiled again in spite of her concern. It wasn’t all that long ago that she had been nearly totally alone on this island, surrounded by people and yet utterly isolated from them all. She knew exactly how lucky she was to have found a place within this little family, and she reached out to run a gentle fingertip over a soft petal. Kumu had given the bouquet a knowing look and said that plumeria represented love, and Higgins knew that if anyone would know what they were talking about it was Kumu.

‘That’s it, then,’ she decided. ‘The boys were trying to make me feel better. And after listening to me moaning about the lads for so long this morning, too.’ Rick and T.C. had both ended up in guest rooms the previous night, leaving all three men trapped that morning, listening to her repeated concerns about the dogs. Making up her mind to thank them in a way she was sure they would appreciate, she quickly saved the spreadsheet she had been editing and grabbed her keys and phone.

“Come on, lads,” she called, clicking her fingers and watching with a frown as the normally lithe creatures pulled themselves slowly upright, clearly suffering in some way. “I’ll drop you both off for your appointment at the vet first, and then I have an errand to run.”

He watched through the binoculars as she stood from her desk and left the office, looking down to his laptop to watch the feed from the security cameras as she walked out of the house. His eyes were fixed on her as she helped one of the dogs clamber through the door of her car, and he grinned to himself, happy to see his knockout gas worked as well on larger dogs as it did smaller breeds. He knew from experience how this would play out; the vet would keep the dogs for at least one night and run all kinds of tests before concluding it was probably a viral infection of some kind. Meanwhile the estate would be free of sharp teeth and loud barks.

He watched through the stolen feeds until her car was lost behind the trees and then looked back to the room she had spent the morning in. The flowers he had sent had been given a place of pride on her desk, and oh! how good it felt to see that. Plumeria for love and pale pink roses for desire, the same flowers he had given Libby on their third date. He had watched her carry the bouquet into her office and tracked every time her eyes had wandered away from her work to look at them admiringly. It had to be a sign. She was giving him a sign that she did remember him, that she wanted him back. And she was clearing the dogs off the property for the night. Oh clever little Libby, doing everything she could to make sure he could reach her.

He wondered why she didn’t just leave, only to find his thoughts interrupted by the roar of an engine. Of course, it was all the fault of the idiot. He must be keeping Libby trapped somehow. He glared through his laptop screen as the man pulled up to the front of the house, switching back to his binoculars to follow that ridiculous yellow shirt around to the door of man's area of the estate. At least he wasn’t forcing Libby to live in the same rooms as he did. But whatever hold he had over her must be strong. Strong enough that she had to resort to signaling for help.

And he would help her. He would do anything for her. And, this time, he was sure it would last.

He packed up his things and carefully slunk away. It was still early, but he needed time to prepare. On the rocks at the bottom of the cliff off to his left was sprawled the body of a young blonde woman, dragged from the bathtub to be tipped over the edge with no more consideration than a piece of garbage. Over the next hour, the tide would come in and the ocean would lift her battered and broken body from the rocks and carry it out to sea. He didn’t look back. She had lied to him, pretended to be his Libby, and she wasn’t worth thinking about.

***

Beers and steaks had turned out to be a perfect idea. The boys had been thrilled, even after Higgins had told them the cooking was down to them. They had nominated T.C., reasoning that he had always been an excellent cook in the past and was unlikely to ruin the meat or give anyone food poisoning. And yes, there were stories attached to both those statements. They’d ended up lounging around Magnum’s TV with some truly terrible action film serving as a foil for sarcastic comments. Rick had them in fits of laughter with his complaints about improper weapons handling and Higgins had happily backed him up, as well as moaning about the incorrect noises people were making after being shot.

It wasn’t until the film had nearly ended, the hero lifting the female lead in his arms, that Magnum asked Higgins what the occasion was.

“I just wanted to thank you all for being so sweet this morning,” she replied, not making eye contact with any of them. Expressing emotions was not her strong point and it was still hard not to feel that she was leaving herself too vulnerable. “It can’t have been a pleasant start to the morning, having to listen to me whining about the lads.” It was said with a huff of self-deprecating laughter, but none of the men laughed.

“Those dogs mean a lot to you,” T.C. said, waiting for her to look at him before smiling and saying, “Besides, what else is family for?”

Her answering smile was blinding, but anything she was going to say in response was lost to Rick’s proclamation that family was apparently good for beer and food. They all grinned, and the conversation moved on without Higgins getting the chance to mention the flowers.

The gathering broke up early; Rick was needed at the club, T.C. had three full tours booked for the following morning, and Magnum had a meeting with a potential new client first thing.

The house was dark by half past ten; he counted the lights as they went out, but he waited until it was nearly midnight before moving. He crept slowly around to the window of the idiot’s bedroom, open to the night air. It was on a latch, but that didn’t matter. It didn’t need to open any further. He fed the end of the thin pipe through the narrow opening and pressed the button on the attached spray can. 

He’d spent all day mixing the gas. It had been highly recommended by more than one of his contacts, and he’d been assured that the very least it would do was keep a full grown adult asleep for several hours. There was a chance the guy could simply stop breathing from too large a dose, but that wasn’t any sort of a deterrent. As much as he wanted this moron to suffer when he realized he had lost Libby, part of him would be happy to kill the guy instead, fitting punishment for daring to keep Libby away in the first place.

When the small canister was empty, he let it fall, not caring about leaving evidence of his visit behind. There were no fingerprints on it and so no need to worry about taking it with him. He walked away quickly, headed to the front door of Libby’s house. He knew a guy who worked for a locksmith and had access to all the equipment needed to make a copy of a key from nothing more than a photograph of the original. It was costly, but it would be worth it if it worked. The alarm system on the building was extensive and impressive, and he didn’t want to run the risk of tripping something in the main lobby, an area he hadn’t had the time to study closely.

The key stuck halfway in the lock and took several nerve-wracking seconds of jiggling and shoving before it was finally all the way in. It turned easily though, and he felt a rush of adrenaline. Just a few passageways to walk down, and he would be in Libby’s bedroom. He would have her back!

It took longer than he expected to find the right door, but finally, finally! he was standing at her bedside. He stared, drinking in the sight. Her hair was fanned out over the pillow, her skin pale in the moonlight slanting in through a gap in the blinds, her breathing soft and slow. He felt his own breathing pick up as he reached out a hand, trembling from excitement, and ran his hand down her cheek. She shifted, stirred, and opened her eyes.

And all hell broke loose.

A gasp of terror escaped her, and he felt as though he had been punched. His hand, withdrawn when she moved, shot back out, but she was already rolling away, throwing off the blanket and dropping to the floor with the bed between them. He stepped up onto the mattress and jumped, lunging for her, but she was moving too, running along the side of the bed. He landed awkwardly, one foot on the bed and the other in midair, sending him crashing to the floor. He scrambled back to his feet and turned to see her run through the door.

Rage, violent and red hot, flooded through him, and he ran after her with a snarl. She couldn’t run away from him, not again, not after last time. His longer legs gave him the advantage, and he caught up with her halfway down the hallway, stretching out and catching her shoulder. He gave a savage tug, and she fell back into him. He wrapped his arms around her, pinning her arms to her sides.

“Don’t run from me!” he hissed in her ear, squeezing his arms together.

She gave a cry of pain and then kicked back. The heel of her foot slammed into his knee, and his grip loosened as he stumbled slightly. Her arms flew up, and she spun and gave a mighty shove that sent him reeling before she turned to run again.

He bent himself forward and grabbed her ankle just as she lifted her foot, bringing her crashing to the floor.

He crawled forward, looming over her and she flipped onto her back, ready to fight. He wrapped his hands around her wrists as her fists flew toward him, then dragged one knee up, planting it in her stomach. Her struggles became more frantic, but he ignored her fear, bending her one arm at a fierce angle in order to press his forearm against her throat.

“You need to remember!” he panted, her choking gasps fueling his anger. “Remember!” he screamed the word at her, pressing harder against her throat.

Using a strength he didn’t know she had, she brought her leg up and threw her knee into his groin.

It didn’t hurt much, the movement was weak, but the shock made him jerk away from her.

Her body arched as she gasped desperately for breath, and she couldn’t stop him from tangling his fingers in her hair, yanking her head up, and slamming it down to the floor. 

He couldn’t remember taking his knife out of his pocket, but suddenly it was in his hand and the blade was glinting in the dim light. He raised it high above his head, fury pounding through him as he looked down at her, dazed and barely conscious beneath him. “I know you remember me. Why are you lying to me?” he shrieked as he brought the knife down, burying the blade in her stomach.

Her scream echoed off the walls, and her hands fluttered over the handle protruding from her flesh. He pulled himself to his feet, all at once drained and exhausted. Bending down nearly sent him tumbling over, but he took a deep breath and straightened up again, her ankles in his hands. He set out back toward the front door, dragging her behind him.

His arms were shaking from the strain even though she weighed so little, and her struggles, though weak, were enough to nearly make him lose his grip. He looked back over his shoulder in time to see her seize the knife and tear it from her own skin, her grunt of pain and exertion ringing in his ears.

As he stared in shock, she lifted her upper body off the floor and lashed out, whipping the knife in a semicircle and splitting the skin on his wrist.

He screamed in pain, dropping her ankles in favor of cradling his bleeding arm, and she scrambled away from him. He watched her go dumbly, unable to move, unable to fathom what had just happened. An alarm started blaring, snapping him out of his dazed state. There must have been a panic button somewhere.

He peered down the corridor and could see Libby sprawled on the floor. He wasn’t sure if she was still conscious or even if she was still breathing, and he didn’t care to find out. He hauled himself to his feet and moved to the door as quickly as he could. He would figure out what had gone wrong after; now he just needed to get home.

***

Katsumoto was proud of his rank. He had worked long and hard to attain his promotion. He had a reputation for being tough but fair, and even his C.I.s showed him respect. So, when he found the person responsible for spreading rumors about him being friends with Thomas Magnum, he was going to make sure no one would ever find their body. He glared at his phone again, the text notification still on the screen.

‘Alarm at Robin’s Nest. Thought you’d like to know.’

“I’d like to know what I’ve done to deserve this,” he groused to himself, even as he was grabbing his sidearm from its drawer. There was a lot of security at Robin Masters’ estate, but most of it was handled by a private security company. Only one system connected to HPD, a panic system that, to the best of his knowledge, had never been activated before. He liked Magnum just fine as long as he wasn’t actually anywhere nearby, and he had a lot of respect for Higgins; he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t the least bit concerned. He wasn’t going to go speeding through the streets, though. He was a quarter of the way through a rare night shift and this was a welcome distraction; that was all.

He’d give the uniforms time to arrive on scene, figure out whatever Magnum had done this time, and show up just in time to send the P.I. off with a flea in his ear for wasting police time. He certainly wasn’t going to go blowing through red lights or ignoring stop signs. He wasn’t all that worried. He was more concerned with what Higgins might do to Magnum for waking her up when it was past midnight.

And that thought lasted until his radio squarked with updates from the patrolmen who had been dispatched to the estate. He listened with growing horror as the men reported finding two victims, male and female, both unconscious, the female suffering from at least one stab wound. Ambulances were demanded, and Katsumoto nearly pushed his foot through the floor.

He arrived after the ambulances and forced himself not to rush straight into the house, wary of getting in the way of the EMTs. A sergeant he thought he vaguely recognized was walking out of the front door, and Katsumoto walked over and demanded a full report. 

“Male vic is in bed around the back; we aren’t sure why he won’t wake up. The woman was in a small library on the second level of the main building. I did what I could to stop the bleeding.”

Katsumoto looked down at the man’s hands to see they were streaked with blood that he had obviously made an effort to clean off. Katsumoto wasn’t as hard a man as some people thought, and he felt a shock of sympathy for the younger man and nodded at him to stop. “That’s enough. I’m sure you did everything you could.”

There was a noise from behind them, and they turned to see a gurney being pushed toward the waiting ambulances. Katsumoto couldn’t help but stare in confusion as the stretcher drew near. He automatically looked for bruises or cuts, but Magnum looked fine.

“Any idea what’s wrong with him?” the detective called as the two EMTs moved past him.

“Looks like he was drugged with something. Doctor will probably order blood work,” came the slightly distracted reply. The stretcher was quickly loaded into the back of the ambulance, the blonde EMT moving to the front while the darker-haired one made to climb in next to Magnum. A shout made all four of them turn to the front door to see another stretcher being pushed out.

This time the EMTs looked slightly frantic. “Let us pull out first; she can’t wait!”

Katsumoto caught a glimpse of Higgins’ face, looking far too pale, of the blood staining her pajamas, and then she was being lifted into the back of the second ambulance. It took off with its lights flashing, followed at a more sedate pace by Magnum’s ambulance. The night went from full of activity and light and noise to oppressively silent, and Katsumoto glanced down at his watch. He wasn’t sure about T.C., but Rick worked at a club and was bound to be up. With a deep sigh, he pulled his cell out and scrolled through his contacts. He always hated this part of his job.

***

It took Rick almost twice as long to make it to the hospital as he’d expected thanks to a power outage causing havoc with the traffic lights along the road he needed to take. He spotted T.C.’s van and swung the wheel to pull into the space next to it. He didn’t even bother locking the car, just grabbed the keys and ran, nearly going straight into the automatic doors as they opened too slowly. He saw T.C., looking tense and upset, standing with a stern-looking nurse, and called out.

“There he is!” T.C. said to the nurse. “That’s Rick, Higgins’ brother.” Rick didn’t even question it, just nodded as he reached his friend’s side. “So he can go up and sit with her, right? Because he’s family.”

Both men watched as the nurse glared at them, seeming to be trying to tell them she didn’t believe a word of the hasty story before she finally nodded.

“Very well.” She turned to Rick. “Your sister is currently in ICU. You can sit there with her until she’s taken to the operating theater, but make sure you don’t get in the way of the staff. They won’t hesitate to throw you out if they think it’s in their patient’s best interests.”

“Wait, why isn’t she already in surgery? Wasn’t she stabbed?” Rick’s conversation with Katsumoto had been brief with very few details, but Higgins having been stabbed was one of them.

“Her blood pressure is too low for us to operate. The wound has been packed, and we’re pushing transfusions as fast as we can. They’re keeping a close eye on her; don’t worry. As soon as she’s stabilized, she’ll be taken to surgery.” She gave a vague wave, and a porter appeared as if summoned. “ICU, room 12.”

The porter started to walk away, and Rick was forced to hurry after him.

When they reached the room, Rick stopped in the doorway for a moment. The lights were glaringly bright, so the nurses could see the readouts from the various machines clearly, he realized. But it was making Higgins look so pale that, for that one heart-stoppingly long second, he thought he was too late. As one member of the medical team noticed him standing there and waved him in, he heard the steady beeping of a heart monitor and let out the breath that had frozen in his throat.

“You can sit over there,” the nurse told him with a sympathetic smile. “I’ll have to ask you to stay away from the bed for now.” She turned back to Higgins as Rick nodded dumbly and crossed the room to the chair.

He stared hard and quickly realized the lighting wasn’t to blame for Higgins looking like death. He shifted his gaze to the equipment; they had all had plenty of time to figure out how to read various bits and pieces of medical paraphenalia after they’d left the Korengal.

Higgins’ pulse was rapid, and her oxygen levels disturbingly low, but it was the bluish tint to her lips that scared him the most.

‘Hypovolemic shock,’ he told himself in a surprisingly calm voice, one that reminded him of Nuzo. ‘The bleeding needs to be controlled so the blood volume can be replaced; otherwise she’ll probably die on the table.’ Nuzo would never have been so callous, though, and Rick surprised himself with the thought. A touch on his shoulder brought him back with a jerk, and his head snapped up to see the same nurse from before; he glanced over at the monitors again and realized with a shock how much time had passed.

“The theater’s being prepped now; we’ll be taking her down in just a moment. You can wait here; the surgeon will be in to see you after.”

“Can you…” He swallowed hard, worried he wouldn’t like the answer if he finished the question. “Do you know what her chances are?” He hated the look she gave him.

“The surgeons here are first-rate,” she told him quietly. “We’ll take good care of her.”

And then the room was empty.

Rick spent some time in Magnum’s room, where T.C. told him they were pretty sure their friend had inhaled whatever had knocked him out and that they had no idea when he would wake up. Rick didn’t stay long; he felt antsy, like leaving Higgins’ room would somehow cause problems. It was irrational and absurd, and he only felt slightly better when T.C. didn’t try to argue with him about going back.

There was a clock in the room, but he made a conscious effort to ignore it, so he had no idea how long he had been waiting when someone, he thought they were a porter, came in with an IV pole.

“Surgery must be nearly finished,” the man remarked with a smile at Rick. “Bet you’re glad to hear that.” He strolled off, leaving Rick to wrestle with the anxiety he had been feeling since seeing Katsumoto’s name pop up on his cell. When Higgins was finally wheeled back in, he was shocked at how much better she looked. She was still pale, but the blue was gone from her lips and the numbers on the machines were all much closer to what he recognized as normal.

The surgeon came in as promised and explained that the knife hadn’t done as much damage as they had first thought. 

“We were expecting organ damage,” she told him, “but the biggest issue was a nicked artery. We’ll be keeping her in ICU, at least for tonight, for close observation, but I’m cautiously hopeful that we’ll be moving her to a regular ward tomorrow.”

Rick was so dizzy from the relief he nearly forgot to thank her before she left. He waited until the staff had gone before standing by the bed and resting one hand on Higgins’ shoulder.

“Come back to us,” he told her quietly. “We’re all waiting.”

He stayed in her room all night, not leaving her side until her doctor came in the next morning. The man was impressed with whatever readings he checked and gave Rick a smile.

“Everything’s looking good. We’ll be moving her soon, and visiting hours won't be starting for a while yet. Maybe you should take the opportunity to get some sleep? Maybe some food?” He held up a hand, stopping Rick’s protest before it could even start. “We’ll call if anything changes.”

***

Katsumoto swore as he heard Rick’s voicemail kick in again and hit the steering wheel in frustration.

“Call T.C.” he snapped at his bluetooth mic, swerving around a Land Rover that hadn’t managed to clear the lane before stopping in the face of the police lights racing up from behind.

_ “Katsumoto!” _ T.C. sounded almost jovial, and a faint call of  _ "Morning!" _ came across the line from what sounded like two different voices.

“Where are you and Rick now?” Katsumoto’s tone was brusque, almost angry.

_ “We’re on our way to Robin’s Nest with Thomas. He’s been discharged. We were gonna get some breakfast before we head back to see Higgy. What’s up?”  _ The levity had left T.C.’s voice. Now he sounded tense.

“The lab ran blood taken from the scene, and it threw up a match to a federal case. Five other home invasions in five different states. Each time a young woman, slim, blonde, five-four to five-six, has gone missing. Only two of the bodies have been recovered, but the feds suspect they’re all dead.” There was silence on the line as Kastumoto focused on not crashing into an SUV that had tried to beat him to the light and the three men on the other end of the line tried to digest what they had been told.

_ “So what happens now?” _ That from Magnum who sounded like he had suddenly gotten a lot closer to T.C.’s cell.  _ “Is Higgins in danger?” _

“She may have been this guy’s target. I’m on my way to the hospital, and I’ve called for a unit, but there’s a lot going on today.” He was about to ask them if they could meet him there and provide unofficial backup, but Rick beat him to it.

_ “We’re turning around.” _

A screech came over the phone, like tires on a car making an illegal u-turn. Katsumoto chose not to comment and simply ended the call. Whoever this man was, he had had all night to patch himself up and come up with a plan on how to get through the, admittedly limited, hospital security. Katsumoto pressed down hard on the gas and spent the rest of the drive hoping he wasn’t going to be too late. He would happily admit he cared for Higgins, and even Magnum, if it would spare the young woman from becoming the next sickeningly battered body this disturbed criminal left in his wake.

The hospital parking lot was already half-full, but Katsumoto wasn’t looking for an actual space and pulled in by a row of bollards, flashing his badge at the security guard who called after him. He flashed his badge again at the nurse behind the desk and demanded Higgins’ room number in his best ‘you do not want to mess with me’ voice. She gave him hasty directions, and he jogged quickly through the hallways, calling in his updated location as he went.

He hoped that he would walk into Higgins’ private room and find her wide awake and surrounded by her trio of willing bodyguards. Instead, he reached her room just in time to see a porter walking in. Before the door swung closed, Katsumoto could see Higgins and the porter were the only two people in the room. Why did she need a porter when she was obviously still unconscious? The thought had the detective reaching for his sidearm. The worst that could happen was that he would scare a hospital employee and be forced to apologize.

Ignoring the wide-eyed looks of the other people in the corridor, Katsumoto carefully pushed the door open with his left hand, the gun in his right, aimed at the floor. At first glance, it looked as though the porter was simply staring down at the unconscious Higgins. Then Katsumoto saw the tension in the man’s shoulders, and every instinct he possessed screamed at him that this was his guy. 

“HPD!” he called, taking one large step into the room and raising his gun. “Step back!”

The man’s head lifted, and he turned his face slightly. Katsumoto saw a grin spread across the other man’s lips and noticed his hands, one heavily bandaged, were wrapped around Higgins’ throat. The skin around them was white from the pressure, and adrenaline surged through Katsumoto.

“Let her go!” The detective took a step closer to the bed, wary of opening fire with his target so close to Higgins but knowing he could hit the man if he needed to. “I won’t tell you again!”

The other man didn’t respond, didn’t even react, but the monitors around the bed were starting to beep and flash.

Katsumoto took a breath, checked his aim, and fired.

The man fell to the side with a yell of pain, pawing uselessly at his ruined shoulder with his bandaged hand. Katsumoto hurried over and pushed him roughly to his stomach, ignoring his whimpers. As the door opened and two nurses came running in, summoned no doubt by the frantic tones of the equipment, Katsumoto pulled the man’s hands behind his back and cuffed them tightly. He was just about to call it in when the door burst open and Magnum rushed in, Rick and T.C. hot on his heels, all three looking nearly frantic.

They stopped as they surveyed the room, bumping into one another in a move lifted straight from a Laurel and Hardy film. Under different circumstances, Katsumoto would have found it funny. On the bed, Higgins was stirring as her body’s adrenal response fought off the sedative effects of the painkillers she was on. Katsumoto was still crouched on the floor with one hand on the back of his prisoner, keeping the man from moving around too much.

“Nice of you to join us.” If the situation hadn’t been so serious, Katsumoto could have laughed at the looks he was getting from the three men.

“Magnum?” Higgins' voice was so quiet it was nearly drowned by the beeping of the heart monitor.

The nurses stepped aside as Magnum moved to the side of the bed, one of them whispering a warning about too much excitement to him.

“Hey, Higgy.” He took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb over her fingers. “You had us worried.”

She frowned a little at that, peering up at him. “What happened?”

That drew a snort from someone, although, later, no one would admit to it being them.

Magnum just shook his head. “That’s a long story.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up- T.C., resident teddy bear, gets to show his claws.

**Author's Note:**

> Well. This has been fun to work on. I have procrastinated so much on this that I ended up writing and posting a handful of other Magnum fics and I think I lost what little was left of my sanity!


End file.
